I Want His Eyes On Me
by Exploding Dandelion
Summary: Letters, pictures, and feeling eyes on the back of his head have plagued Hope for the last several months. Everyone scrambles to find the identity of the stalker before Hope cracks under this stranger's brand of love. In the meantime, he needs someone to act as his protection, and his anchor to sanity. But in the shadows, she watches. "I love you, from the bottom of my heart."
1. She Calls it Love

**Hello new readers! First off, thank you for clicking and reading this story. It is very much appreciated. Here are some things to know:**

**This is set post-game. Since this does not at all follow the FF13-2 timeline/universe, it should be considered AU. **

**Despite this, I will use a character or two from that game here, partially to avoid creating OCs, and because their characteristics will be valuable here. But again, while similar in personality and such, they do NOT have their original, canon background.**

**For now this is set to T, although it may change in the future. **

**Anything else you need to know, feel free to ask. I'll let you know if it comes up in the story, and if not, answer it full-on.**

**Anyway, enough of my blabbering. Please continue, and I hope all of you enjoy it! Reviews, favorites, and alerts are all appreciated. Thank you and onward!**

* * *

Opening his locker had become some sort of twisted adventure for Hope. At least twice a week, but often more, he would go to enter the combination and lift the handle, only to find that the locker swung open at the barest touch. The college had since refunded him his deposit, and he was using it for free, but that didn't stop the hassle of having to change the lock every other day. And a lot of good it seemed to do him in the end, as the locker would always be broken again.

"Whoa, that's a lot, even for them."

Yet, that was only half of the problem.

Hope sighed as a waterfall of sealed envelopes fell to the floor. He rubbed his pale face before kneeling to pick them up. Noel hovered over him, sighing when Hope swatted his hands away when he reached to help.

"Don't," Hope muttered, voice softer and eyes apologetic. "It's fine." A couple of stray college students glanced at the pair and the envelopes, but walked on by without a word. The occurrence, while strange, seemed to have become a normal part of campus life. Hope would open his broken locker, and something would fall out.

As it had been for the past seven months.

Noel glared at the offending pieces of paper as Hope stuffed them into his bag. "And there's still not enough? I mean, how many of these things has this person sent? And the police still aren't doing anything?" The questions came like rockets but Hope just shrugged.

"It's not that simple, Noel. Leaving notes in my locker isn't a crime, for one thing."

"Breaking the locker to do it is," he shot back.

Hope shook his head, shoulders slumping. "For another, they don't even know who this person is. Nothing has come up. They've been pretty good at keeping themselves hidden."

"The police aren't exactly doing a lot themselves though!" Noel crossed his arms, pouting at the oblong skylight. Sunlight poured through the glass, bright white light causing dark shadows around the hall. "I mean, when was the last time they even picked up your case?"

"That's not how this works, Noel." Hope stared blankly at his broken locker, gently closing it as tightly as he could before turning around and heading for the double doors. Noel made to follow him, pausing when he spotted two missed envelopes on the ground. Waiting until Hope was at least two feet ahead of him, he knelt down and picked up the letters. Noel slipped them in his shoes and pretended to tie the laces when Hope glanced back, before jumping up and jogging to Hope.

"It's not that they don't want to help, it's that there's not much they can do. There's no real evidence she's stalking me."

"So, it's a she now." Noel raised an eyebrow but Hope just sighed. Noel's lungs deflated at his friend's growing lethargy, and he didn't miss the dark, purple rings that burned beneath Hope's eyes. They both paused when they stepped outside, letting the sun warm their faces before heading down the sidewalk. In the distance, Noel spotted the long, dark car that Hope had been using as his ride for the past three months.

"I think so. Sometimes the i's have hearts, and there's a perfume smell to some of the letters. But who knows, maybe it's some creeper guy pretending to be a girl."

Noel closed his eyes and shuddered. "Don't. That might really be it."

"Anyway," Hope said firmly, "there's no actual proof I'm being stalked. Saying that it feels like someone is watching me isn't really evidence, and the letters are just a bunch of love confessions or-or-I don't know, things they like or something." Noel narrowed his eyes when Hope didn't meet his gaze. Hope's stare stayed ahead of him, but Noel could see the slight tremble to his frame.

"But she _is_ stalking you." Noel put as much force as he could behind the words.

"Again...no proof, no charges. That's why I'm collecting the letters and anything else she sends. Just in case." Hope slowed when they were only a few steps away from the car, his eyes darkening. His entire body slumped and when Noel stepped in front of Hope to peer into his eyes, he saw how lost Hope seemed. His eyes had a faraway look and exhaustion ran down his face. Hope ran a hand through his silver locks, messing the already ruffled looking hair.

"Th-they said..." Hope opened and closed his mouth several times, shaking his head and gasping. Hope gritted his teeth and looked up at the sky and the ground and everywhere but Noel, blinking rapidly the entire time. Eventually, Hope forced out a laugh, empty and bitter. "They said I'd probably just have to wait until she did something."

A small silence followed as the words sunk in, before an icy chill overtook Noel. "No..." Noel trailed off, eyes widening in horror. He took a step toward Hope and grabbed his arm, squeezing. "They can't wait till then!"

"Unless we can find out who she is, and _prove_ beyond my word that she's following me, there's really nothing more they can do." Hope closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his lower lip quivering. The cold seeped into Noel's stomach and he looked around, waiting for someone to swoop down and take Hope this very second.

He tightened his hold on Hope's arm at the thought.

"B-but I'll be all right, Noel. Promise. She'll probably screw up somewhere down the road, the police will take care of it, and life can go back to kind of normal." There was no real cheer in Hope's voice. Hope smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, and it was quick to fall back into a single straight line.

"Don't worry about it, Noel. I'll be fine. Always have." Hope stepped away from him and headed for the car, even as Noel scrambled for something to say. His head was still stuck on the words, _"...wait until she did something," _and all the scenarios that could mean for Hope. By the time he turned around at the slamming of the car door, Hope was waving good-bye from the glass, the car zooming down the street and quickly out of sight.

Noel stood alone, seconds ticking by as his heart roared and twisted. He could do nothing for his friend but watch, even as Hope slipped in health and humor and everything else that made Hope, Hope.

"This-this isn't right. They can't just leave him like this! A sitting duck for this-this-" Snarling, Noel threw his hands in the air, flipping off the passing clouds. Several passerby gave him odd looks, but he hardly noticed them as he fell back into the campus grass and glared down at his shoes. One of the white envelopes peeked out of his right sneaker and he growled, yanking both of them out.

"I hate you, whoever you are. I hate what you're doing to my friend." He flipped the plain white envelopes over and sighed. His neck warmed and sweat started forming on his hands. In the back of his mind, something whispered not to do it, but he pushed the words away.

"Sorry, Hope, but there's no way you'll show me if I ask." Swallowing hard, Noel opened the first envelope and pulled out a letter. Rose and lavender perfume hit his nose and he winced.

_He's right, definitely a girl._

Unfolding the note, he paused at the neatly written message that covered every inch of the paper, the words smashed together:

_IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIlov eyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou Iloveyou_

_IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIlov eyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou Iloveyou_

_IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIlov eyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou Iloveyou_

_IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIlov eyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou Iloveyou_

_IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIlov eyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou Iloveyou_

_IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIlov eyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou Iloveyou_

The chill in his stomach reached up to his chest, leaving icicles in his ribcage. He scanned the page top to bottom, as if to confirm that someone has really sat somewhere and wrote the same words, over and over again.

_They're insane. This can't be happening._

His heart hammered harder as he reached for the other letter, opening it and letting the contents slip to the ground. A mog keychain pulled his eyes for a second, reading the tag, _"Another gift for you!"_

But what caught his eyes was the sheen on the paper. He picked it up and felt the smooth corner, before turning it around.

His pounding heart lodged in his throat and Noel choked at what he saw.

It was a photo of Hope from yesterday, sitting in the college courtyard and reading a book. The shot was taken in a way that placed Hope at the center of the work, framed by bush leaves and tree branches. The woman had even waited until no random pedestrian was walking through the popular courtyard to make sure Hope was the only one in it. He hovered over the book in the picture, eyes narrowed in concentration, his pencil in mid-tap.

The chill finally reached his brain, tearing him between cold burns and numbing fear.

"No... No, no, no."

Noel flipped the photo over and caught the scrawled words near the bottom, _"You're so cute when you're working on statistics!"_

"But...you can't even see the cover of the text..."

Noel paused, mouth dropping at the realization. And the chill in his torso seeped through every muscle and pore he had, as if to leave the very air around him frosty. Horror and fear churned in Noel's stomach as he put the photo with the keychain and letter.

"What do I tell him?" he asked, slamming his forehead to his knees. "And-and what about those other letters? Are they all like that? Oh-oh no..."

A slight breeze jostled the letter, revealing more of the cursive, black-inked, declarations of love. The inky black words seemed to shine when the sun hit, burning brightly the sentence, _"IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIlov eyou."_

_I love you._

* * *

As he walked into the home he shared with his father, Hope did his best to paint a calm and neutral look on his face. His lips formed a simple, straight line, and his eyes remained blank. The techniques he picked up from Lightning paid off whenever he needed to seem as normal as possible, and he made sure to ignore the voice in his head whispering, _"Don't you always complain when she pretends to be okay?" _

He passed through the walkway, kicking off his shoes and stepping into the living room. Curling his toes around the soft, blue carpet, Hope took a deep breath and shifted his bag. He could almost hear the envelopes shuffling inside, and the weight they represented almost cracked his back in two.

_Better get to my room before dad asks-_

"Hope?" He winced at his father's voice before grinning and turning to face Bartholomew. His father walked in from the archway, and Hope caught the scent of spaghetti sauce.

"Hey, dad! Just got home. Let me drop my stuff off!"

Bartholomew adjusted his glasses, keeping his eyes on Hope. Hope's chest tightened and he looked away, playing with his bag's strap. _Move, Hope. Move and you won't have to worry about it._

But his legs locked in place, waiting for his father to say something. His heart pounded and skipped, rattling his ribs. Silence stretched between them and Hope opened his mouth to ask what was wrong with Bartholomew finally spoke. "So, what happened today?"

Licking his dry lips, Hope shrugged. "Nothing much. Got some homework...a test is coming up in statistics."

Bartholomew hummed, brown eyes darkening. "Anything else? Maybe something to do with your classmates?"

"No...no, there's really nothing else going on." The bag was getting heavier, pressing into the small of his back. Hope was sure it was leaving a big bruise the longer he left it on him.

"Nothing with her?" Sweat beaded on the back of Hope's neck and he squirmed. His mask fell in front of his father like it always did, but he did his best to hold on to the shreds that remained.

"No, dad. Nothing all that bad."

"That's not what Noel told me." Hope's breath hitched. His eyes met his father's before he whipped around, rushing for the door even as Bartholomew yelled back for him. He made it down the hall and grabbed the knob before his father caught his shoulder and pulled him back. Hope's face warmed and he yanked in the grip, shaking his head.

"I'm serious, dad. Nothing happened. Noel is just being weird! He didn't tell me he got his phone back," he mumbled to himself, growling.

"No, he isn't. He didn't tell me what was inside, only that you got a bunch of those damned letters again! And that this time, it was bad."

Frustration boiled hot in Hope's gut and he snarled. "What else is new? So she's some weirdo who has a fixation on me...it's not like we can actually do anything about it right now!" Hope threw his door opened, a bang echoing loudly as it slammed into the wall. "It got worse? That's great! Maybe the police will do something now."

"Hope, no." Bartholomew shook his head, following Hope into his room and flinching when Hope chucked his bag at the wall. "We don't want this to get worse."

"Why not? At least it'll be different than feeling like-like-I don't know, like the same old routine of feeling watched and getting weird love confessions. I wonder what it is." Hope ripped his bag open with trembling fingers, feeling hot and tired and angry all at once. The black fabric tore and letters, textbooks, and pencils spilled onto the floor.

Bartholomew's eyes widened. "So many."

Hope ignored him, falling to his knees and ripping open a few of the letters. The first five had nothing but the words 'I love you' written all over, the words smashed together into one to make room for as much as possible. Hope's already pale complexion grew lighter with each letter, and the vigor he'd used to open the first few letters died down.

The sixth envelope had no letter, and as Hope slipped the photo out, he made a small, strangled sound. Bartholomew was at his side in an instant, grasping Hope's shoulder ans squeezing while looking at the photo in Hope's hand.

His heart clenched and curled itself into a tight little ball, and his grip on Hope's shoulder increased. Hope shook his head, body quaking as he looked at a picture of himself as he walked away from the campus, Noel by his side.

"It's from last week," Hope whispered, barely able to hold it in his hands. His fingers wouldn't stop shaking and eventually it slipped from his fingers, landing lightly on the floor. The air had been knocked from Hope's lungs, leaving him choked, and his eyes began to burn.

"Hope, it's-" Bartholomew stopped, unsure of what to say as he searched his son for answers that weren't there. Hope reached for another envelope, even as Bartholomew told him to stop.

"No, Hope. Leave them alone. I'll open them and put it all in our evidence box. Maybe the police can do something now, like you said."

"This one is two weeks old," Hope muttered, eyes widening as he pulled the next out. The photo showed Hope at the park, sitting underneath one of the trees and resting his eyes. Flipping to the back, Hope read the message, _"You must have been tired because you're always working so hard! But you look so cute when you're asleep. I think green really suits you. It matches your eyes perfectly!"_

Another photo had him in a classroom with his professor. "When I was asking for an extension on the project." Hope felt something scraping his insides out, leaving him hollow and so, _so_ empty.

Another as he walked home college, several months old because of his new, and apparently necessary rides home. One of him and Noel at the bookstore. Him picking up milk at the supermarket. Practicing with his boomerang.

Picture after picture after picture. Hope couldn't even grasp the thirteenth envelope, his hands shook so badly. Tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto the floor, some sobs escaping him even as he bite down his mouth. Hope grabbed his head and rocked himself back and forth, gasping. "Please leave me alone. Why won't you leave me alone? I didn't do anything. I swear I didn't do anything."

Bartholomew gathered Hope in his arms, resting his chin on the top of his head and hugging him as tightly as he could. "We're going to fix this, Hope. I promise. I'll find out who's doing this and put a stop to it."

Hope nodded, sucking in his breath only to gasp again. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry about." Bartholomew grabbed Hope by the arm and eased him up. "You need to rest, Hope. Leave this to me."

"But-"

"Leave it to me." Bartholomew led Hope to his bed, setting him gently on the mattress and ruffling his hair. "You just sit back, relax, and let me finish dinner."

"Did it burn?" Hope asked, biting his lip and rubbing away the tears. He tried to keep his eyes on his father, ignoring the pull of the pictures.

"No, I made sure to turn the burner off. We won't have a repeat of last week." Bartholomew smiled when he managed to pull a chuckle out of Hope. He scooped up the letters and photos as quickly as he could and nodded again at his son. "I'll bring dinner to you."

"You don't have-"

"I"ll bring it to you." Hope gulped at Bartholomew's glare, slowly nodding before letting himself fall back into bed. Hope closed his eyes until he heard the door close with a soft snap, then rolled over and stared down at his now ruined bag. He wrapped his arms around his stomach to stop the shaking and fought the burning in his eyes, gritting his teeth.

"I hate this," he muttered, swearing when a another gasp escaped him. He shook his head, the pictures flashing over and over again in his mind. All the moment in his life; normal moments meant just for him and his friends. But he was being watched and documented and nothing was the same anymore.

_I don't get it. I mean, what's so interesting about me? What did I do? I don't want this. I don't-no-I just-_

A sob erupted from him and he snapped his jaw shut, groaning. "I really, really hate this," he said again, curling into a ball. "Just leave me alone."

On the other side, Bartholomew listened to his son's faint, desperate noises until his heart could take no more. He headed for his own room and pulled out a box from the closet. Evidence was written in big, black letters on the sides and top. As he opened it, more letters and small gifts sat at the bottom, and Bartholomew let the new additions drop inside. Then, with a heavy sigh, he pulled out a few of the photos and set them on his bed.

"I have quite a few calls to make," he mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose and heading back to the kitchen to heat the now cold dinner.


	2. Requesting

**I'm sorry it took so long for me to update. It may still be hard for updates to come as soon as I'd like. I'm back in college, and I don't have as much time to write and edit as I used to. I hope you'll all bear with me though. **

**I want to thank all the readers and reviewers for such stellar support. It means a whole lot. I really didn't expect this story to take off the way it has, and I hope I don't disappoint you all. I'll reply to the signed in reviews within the next two days, and again, I hope you'll be patient with me on this. The anon reviews will be below:**

**Krotosys: Thank you very much for saying so! I blushed a bit when I read this; I'm glad you think so. As for who the stalker is...you're right, you'll have to wait! :) I'll do my best and thank you for the support.**

**darkshifter: It is, at least, I hope it is. I'm glad you can't wait! Thank you and I hope you like the new chapter. **

**kwabbee patteh: Hello again! Thank you for reading my other stories as well and I'm so happy you like them! *hugs* And I'm glad there are others who like this...darker side of the reading world. I'll do my best with both stories, so thank you for sticking with me!**

**Guest: Thank you! *hugs* I'm glad you're enjoying them and I hope you enjoy this chapter as well. :3**

** Yuuji Narukami: I'll be honest, not too likely. Especially after this chapter. I'll do my best to update on a somewhat regular basis. Thank you for the review/**

**And that's all for anon reviews. Thank you to everybody who has read, reviewed, faved, and alerted. I hope you'll stay by me and the story as we come along. Your feedback means a ton to me, and often inspires me to keep going when I don't think I can. So thank you. *hugs for everyone***

**Onward to the story!**

* * *

"Yes, I know it's early." Bartholomew sat on the couch, letting his back sink into the cushions. He closed his eyes to the voice on the other end, holding back a sigh. "I've already explained that to you," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Yes, there are photos. Lots of them. About twenty-one, yes."

Bartholomew shook his head and looked toward the ceiling. A sharp throb began to pound at the back of his head. "More letters as well. And those little gifts. No, Hope hasn't actually been able to see her." Bartholomew gritted his teeth, fisting his free hand and clenching the phone until the skin turned red. "There must be something you can do. The woman is sending my son pictures of himself. If that isn't proof-more?"

Standing up, Bartholomew paced the room. His turns were sharp and hurried, and he couldn't keep the edge out of his voice. "So we need to wait for something worse to happen? Well, that's what is sounds like to me. I thought you were supposed to protect people from this sort of thing."

Bartholomew stopped dead, shoulders tensing. "I'm being unreasonable? I didn't know keeping my son safe from-from lunatics was being unreasonable! No, I think that's exactly what you meant." Eyes growing icy, Bartholomew hissed. "Yes, I suppose we'll just have to discuss this later. And believe me, there will be _much_ to talk about."

With a loud snap, Bartholomew closed his phone, staring at the sleek bit of plastic and metal with hard eyes. His heart roared and twisted, his fingers feeling hot as blood rushed in the tips. The clock ticked away, reminding him that Hope would be home in a few hours.

Bartholomew nearly snarled at the thought of telling his son that there was still absolutely nothing they could do. Hope's shaking and crying form from yesterday still squeezed his heart, and he shuddered at what this news would bring. "This can't be happening," he muttered. "I'll have to bring this up to Rygdea. There's just...there has to be something I can do."

Sighing, he flipped the cell back open and dialed his secretary, waiting for her soft voice to carry across the line. He tapped his foot at the rings, perking up when she finally answered.

"Hello, Mr. Estheim."

"Lavinia," he said shortly.

He heard the shuffling of papers before a sigh crackled through. "The call to the police didn't go well?"

"That would be an understatement. Not enough evidence. No suspect. They can't do anything. They're not even bothering to look." Bartholomew growled, resuming his pacing. "I am in no mood to be made an example of." The bitterness in his voice dripped off the words, and his hold on the phone tightened.

"I know, sir. But I do have some good news." Briefly closing his eyes, Bartholomew hummed for her to continue. "Miss Farron's deployment ended three days ago, and as requested, her superior officer Lt. Amodar directed her to one of our vehicles. She should be arriving at your residence with the hour."

Bartholomew blinked, slowing his walk. Taking a deep breath, he grinned and ran a shaky hand over his face. "That-that is fantastic news."

"Sir..." Lavinia paused on the other end, exhaling and causing another crackle. "Are you sure you wish to tell Miss Farron everything yourself? I mean, between all the safe houses and the extra room..."

"Don't worry, Lavinia. This woman is a trusted, dear friend. As good as family as far as I'm concerned." Bartholomew nodded to himself, halting at his window. Dark gray clouds loomed overhead, casting the world into faded colors. The first drops of rain began to hit the streets, and the wind whipped trees of Gran Pulse into even stranger shapes.

"Sir?" Lavinia asked when the silence continued for several minutes.

"Sorry. It's just, Miss Farron is the reason that my son is by my side today. She's likely the reason I'm here with him too. She's done a lot for this family, and I am about to ask her for more. The least I can do is tell her what's going on myself. And make sure all her needs are met."

"Of course, Mr. Estheim. And sir, _he _said he'd be dropping by soon as well."

"Really now?" Bartholomew chuckled, the sound flat. "I suppose he had more foresight than I did. I'm sure he knew the police would be less than cooperative. It will save me some time, if nothing else."

"Shall I make the usual arrangements?"

"Yes. And grant most of his requests...unless it's something ridiculous, like those bunny ears again. I swear, that man has no shame. And remind him that he is no longer to have any sort of female company." The throbbing in his head spread around his brain, hugging it like a rubber band.

Lavinia giggled. "Naturally, sir."

Ending the call, Bartholomew continued to watch the rain as it grew heavier, drenching the ground turning puddles into lakes. Leaves and mud stuck to the window and the wind began to howl.

Turning away, Bartholomew headed for the kitchen, smiling to himself. "I might try cooking something before she gets here. I'm sure I can make it work this time. And bad news is better with lunch. At least, that's how I think the saying went..."

* * *

Lightning Farron felt very out of place in the polished black car, although she didn't let it show on her face. She kept her eyes closed and back eased into the leather seat, her legs crossed and arms folded. Hearing the rain pelting the car made her appreciate the warmth inside, but she still wondered what Bartholomew Estheim could possibly want with her.

_The Lieutenant wasn't exactly clear when he told me to report here. Just that the Estheim family wanted to see my right away and that they'd already arranged a vehicle. _

_And I barely stepped onto base._

Shaking her head, she opened her eyes and watched the rain fall like a curtain on the neighborhood. Homes were blurred blots of color and wind threw more than a few leaves at the window. The driver in front barely seemed bothered by the torrential downpour, humming to herself and taking a turn.

"We're almost there, Miss Farron," she said in an all too cheery voice. "It's the house at the end of the block."

Nodding, Lightning sat a little straighter, her heart clenching.

_It must be important if he wants me here this fast. But what? Something with Hope, but what could it be? The kid sounded fine when I called him two weeks ago._

The car slowed to a stop and before Lightning could unbuckle her seatbelt, the driver hopped out of the car and to Lightning's door, opening it wide and holding an opened umbrella over the entrance. Blinking, Lightning quickly undid the belt and grabbed the umbrella, muttering a thanks. The driver smiled and led Lightning to the house before hurrying back to her car.

Still at a loss at the woman's eagerness, Lightning turned to the solid oak door and knocked a few times, glancing at the light blue finish before the door swung open. An anxious, glasses askew Bartholomew ushered her inside, and she raised an eyebrow when she noticed a burn or two on his hand.

"Um, Mr. Estheim?" Lightning said as she walked in and shut the door. She closed the umbrella and set it against the wall, pointing at Bartholomew's hands. He glanced down, eyes widening before he chuckled, setting his glasses right.

"Ah! Well, I was trying this new recipe I found but I think I got a little overzealous." He bit his lip, shrugging. "It doesn't matter now. What does is that you made it here in one piece. Now we can talk about more important matters. Please, have a seat. And Bartholomew is fine," he added with a smile.

Lightning walked toward the couch and sat down, glancing around the walls and taking in the photos and paintings. Her eyes snapped to Bartholomew as he sat down in a chair opposite her, and she tensed at his grave face.

"I would like to apologize, Miss Farron," he paused when Lightning cleared her throat, smiling at her raised eyebrow. "Right. I would like to apologize, Lightning. I'm sure you're wondering why I asked for you. I was...more prepared when you weren't here, I'll admit. It's always harder when you're face-to-face with a person, isn't it?"

Lightning clenched her hands in her lap. Her heart skipped and she leaned forward. "What are you talking about, Bartholomew? Does it have something to do with Hope? Where is he?" She looked around as if Hope would suddenly materialize, but the room remained empty but for her and Bartholomew.

"Hope is at school, although I tried to get him to stay for today. I wanted to surprise him... He doesn't know you're coming, and maybe seeing you would cheer him up." Bartholomew rubbed his neck, eyes darkening. "And I'm afraid it does concern him."

Lightning's stomach clenched. "I thought he was all right. We talked just the other..."

Lightning trailed off when Bartholomew sat straighter, his eyes growing dark. "I'm afraid Hope hasn't been entirely honest with you. When I asked him the first time, he said that you had a long deployment this time around, and that the last thing you needed was more worry."

Lightning's eyes widened and she bit back the growl bubbling in her throat. She glared at the floor, muttering, "He would do something like that."

Bartholomew hummed. "He can be too kind for his own good. I'm wondering if it's his kindness that got him all this unwanted attention." He nodded at her puzzled look, standing from his seat. "Give me a moment." Lightning watched as Bartholomew headed down the hallway before turning her eyes to his seat. Her chest tightened, Bartholomew's words swirling in her head. _He didn't want to worry me, huh? But what now, Hope? Your dad is turning to me for help... What could be so bad? Unwanted attention can mean a lot of things. Are there people after him? But he said it had something to do with his kindness._

A loud thud jolted Lightning from her thoughts and she blinked at the box in front of her. The word evidence was written at the top and along the sides and Lightning's gaze fixed on the word.

Bartholomew sat on his knees cleared his throat, drawing her eyes. He patted the floor, inching toward the box as Lightning slid off the couch and sat beside him. "You won't like it," he said. "And he's not going to like it either. But you need to see it to understand how bad it is." With that he opened up the container, leaning back so Lightning could peer inside.

She reached inside, at first seeing nothing but small toys and letters, although she did spot the sheen of a photograph as well. Her stomach flipped before curling around itself, and she almost stopped her hand. Instead she slowly pulled out one of the letters, which read 'I love you' over every inch of the paper. Shaking her head, she grabbed another, this one far more coherent:

_Dear Hope,_

_I love you for everything you've done for me. It's more than you could ever know. Someone like you shouldn't concern yourself with people like me; great people like you have better things to do with their time. But you chose to help me, to save me. You gave me life again. You know that? You saved someone's life! That's an amazing thing to do all on its own. But more than that, you did it with such a kind smile, and you were so gentle. And when it was over, you acted as if you did something as simple as grabbing a book from the top shelf for me. _

_How can you be so humble? _

_But that's just another reason to love you. Worship you. What else can I do for the person who saved my life? Who's saved the lives of others? And you're so beautiful. Did the gods make you, or are you a god yourself? You could be. Gods save give life, don't they?_

_Don't ever worry, Hope. You saved me, so I'll always look out for you. If you're a god, well, every god needs an angel. Right?_

_So that's what I'll be. All for you, Hope. _

_I'd do it all for you!_

Lightning stared at the letter, her hands wrinkling the edges. "What is this?" she asked, glaring a the words. "I mean, who-why-"

"We don't know who, and we're not sure why. She says she loves him, but can anyone call this love?" Bartholomew shook his head, eyes growing dark and sad. "And she could just as easily be lying. Although Hope thinks differently. Even if it's creepy, he's sure she's sincere in thinking she loves him."

"How many of these has he gotten?"

"Hundreds of them. All within the last few months. He threw away the first few. He and I both thought it was some sort of joke. But it started happening more frequently, and then she started sending gifts to him, and eventually..." he trailed off when Lightning pulled out a photo, her eyes widening.

It was the one of Hope in the park, sitting on the bench and reading an unknown book. The air left her lungs, leaving her chest painfully tight. A heavy weight sat on her shoulders, and she looked at Bartholomew, shaking her head. "These are..."

"There's more." Bartholomew reached inside the box and pulled out several pictures, then brought some out of his own back pocket. "A lot more. And these are just the ones she decided to send to us." He closed his eyes while Lightning took the photos to examine, her heart twisting tighter with every one she passed. Her shoulders tensed and she swallowed hard, mouth drying.

"She's almost everywhere," Lightning mumbled. "The school, the parks, the sidewalks. But...there are none for-"

"This house?" Bartholomew sighed, rubbing his face. "Only because we got lucky. At the time, we were staying at a hotel across town. I had some business near there and Hope insisted on coming with me. He'd commute to school or stay at Noel's house when he had exams, or was running too late." Bartholomew motioned at the letters and photos that littered the floor. "By the time all of this started happening, we took several precautions to make sure this address wouldn't be found."

Lightning narrowed her eyes when Bartholomew's gaze fell to the floor, and she clenched her hands. "But..."

"It's only a matter of time until something in our defense slips up. The car Hope takes is meant to take him to another, separate car; he is only ever seen in the first one, and the difference between the two is miniscule. I've wiped out the ways to find us publicly. But that doesn't mean much." He snarled at himself, scooping up the evidence and placing it back in the box. "If she's willing to go this far, she'll get to us eventually."

Lightning stood with him when he finished, waiting until he took the box back before speaking. "And that's why I'm here."

He nodded, squaring his shoulders. "Yes, Lightning."

She looked away, staring at the wall as her thoughts reeled. "What about the police? What have they done about it?"

"Next to nothing." Bartholomew resisted a shudder when Lightning growled from beside him, watching as her hands turned to fists.

"Nothing?"

"It's not all their fault," he said, softening his voice. "There isn't much they can do without a suspect. And right now, we don't have one. No fingerprints on the letters, she's never caught on camera delivering them, and Hope's never managed to spot her."

Lightning's eyes widened and Bartholomew nodded. "She's good, whoever she is. I don't know how she's managed to elude us this long. Honestly, I don't think I want to unless it helps me catch her."

"But they've done nothing else?" Lightning pressed, her eyes flashing. "There must be something. They could set up patrols, or assign more-"

"Lightning, forgive me, but we have to keep in mind that Hope is part of my family. The Estheim family." She raised an eyebrow, but the links began to connect even before Bartholomew spoke.

"Right now we're one of the most influential families on Pulse, ever since the fall of Cocoon. We've helped to establish cities, coordinated rescue attempts, and are on the forefront of technological developments. And the police do not want the public to think that we get special treatment because of our position." Bartholomew sneered, shaking his head. "And they're reluctant...said it was odd for a male to be the victim of this sort of thing."

Lightning gritted her teeth, body tensing. "It's hardly special treatment! It's making sure Hope's all right! That he's safe from this-this stalker. And they're not going to do it because they don't want to give 'special' favors to the Estheim family?" She whipped around, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

And failing.

"It makes no sense. If this were some college or high school girl, there'd be more patrols. They'd have made some sort of announcement. They would have done _something_. But Hope-Hope has to fall to the wayside-because of his family. Because he's a boy too, and that's-"

"I know, Lightning." She turned back around at Bartholomew's sad, quiet voice, brow furrowing as the man's entire body sagged. "I know."

He looked up to her, a small and bitter smile on his face. "I wonder...I wonder about what this would be like if I hadn't jumped on the chance to help Cocoon's people and secure something for Hope's future. If I had just tried to live amongst the rest of the population. Would Hope still be treated this way? Would this even be happening?" Bartholomew shook his head, heading back to his seat and flopping down. "Would he be safe?"

"Bartholomew..."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "But what's the point of dwelling on these things?" He waved her back to the couch and she took her seat, watching him carefully. "So, I must ask you, Lightning. Will you look after my son? Will you make sure he doesn't come to harm until this ordeal is over? Will you help him with the stress? He won't-he doesn't like talking to me about it, but to you-"

Bartholomew closed his eyes. "I know I'm asking for a lot. I know you've already helped this family more than I could possibly repay, and I shouldn't ask for more. But he's my _son_. He's all I have left and I must keep him safe. I already-"

"Bartholomew." His jaw snapped shut when she spoke and he opened his eyes, breath catching. Lightning stared at him, long and hard, her eyes blazing but the rest of her composed. "Hope will be safe. I'd have done this without you asking if Hope had even hinted it. He saved my life too, you know. Changed it. Changed me."

He pressed a hand to his head, rasping and blinking away the tears that welled in his eyes. "He does that," Bartholomew whispered. "He has that way with people." Lightning nodded, closing her eyes and tilting her head down as she waited for Bartholomew to regain himself. Her own hands shook, although she wasn't sure if it was anger or fear. She clenched her hands tight until the trembling stopped, looking up when Bartholomew said, "And now, to talk about your accommodations."

She nodded, eyes hardening.

_I will protect you, Hope. No one will lay a finger on you if I can help it._

* * *

"Hope, I know you're mad about me texting your dad about it, but if I didn't, you would have hidden the whole mess from him." Hope huffed, looking away from Noel as the other tried to peer into his eyes. The back of Hope's neck burned at Noel's words, but he didn't say a word accepting or denying Noel's claim.

_If I recall, "No comment" is best for these kind of situations. _

Noel sighed. "And I'm sorry for taking that letter and picture without permission. Okay? I'm sorry. But this-that-it's way too serious, Hope. You can't ignore something like that."

Hope closed his eyes and nodded as they reached the double doors. Noel's eyes lit up and he grinned. "I knew you couldn't stay mad at me."

Hope shrugged, shaking his head when Noel worried his lip. "The whole thing just freaked me out, Noel." Hope grabbed the door but didn't pull it open. He pressed his head to the cool glass, watching as the rain started up again. "I mean...I checked all the pictures she sent. She's been doing it since she started stalking me." Hope closed his eyes, shuddering.

Noel clasped his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "I'm sorry, Hope."

Hope rolled his eyes. "Why? You're not the one stalking me, are you?" Hope's eyes darkened and he bit his lip. "I just-what will she do now? If she's willing to do all of this, what's next?" He rubbed the door handle, curling around himself.

"Hope." Noel looked outside, narrowing his eyes. "How about I come over with you today? We can talk about this at your place and maybe we can think of something to do. And your dad is talking to the police about it right? Maybe they'll have some good news."

"You're optimistic." But Hope managed a smile, glancing at Noel. "It'd be cool to have you over. It's been forever."

"Exactly what I was-"

"Noel! Noel!" Both boys jumped, looking around as a short, brown-haired girl came rushing over. She nearly tripped over her own feet as she skidded in front of them. "The club-emergency meeting. Now. You. Needed." She panted the last part, grabbing a stitch in her side.

Noel's eyes widened and he glanced at Hope before shaking his head. "I can't go right now, Dahlia. What's so important that-"

"The trip! The trip down south! They're finally thinking about funding it, but they want to hear your letter from you!" She grabbed his arm and began to pull, but Noel dug his heels into the ground.

"I can't-I can't go. I'm heading over to Hope's place and-"

"Noel," Hope said, shaking his head at the tug-of-war. "Have you, or have you not been trying to get permission for this trip since last summer?" Hope ignored the way his stomach shriveled up, smiling as wide as he could.

Noel snarled. "So? It's a summer trip and still a few months away. Why does the meeting have to be now?" he said, looking up to the ceiling.

Dahlia folder her arms and huffed. "I don't control the board! Are you coming or not?"

Noel turned to Hope, brow furrowed. He wrung his hands together, swallowing hard. "Hope," Noel started, "I can't just-we were going to hang out. I'm coming-"

"Noel, I swear, if you don't go over there and get this trip for your club, I'll release those baby photos your mom sent me to the entire campus." Noel's face paled and Dahlia paused, raising an eyebrow.

Noel shook his head. "You wouldn't dare..."

"Sure you want to risk it?" Hope glared at him for a full minute before breaking out into a grin and shoving Noel's shoulder. "Get going before I really have to follow through. We'll hang out tomorrow or something. At least then I can give the driver and dad some warning."

Dahlia's eyes lit up and she grabbed Noel's arm again, trying to yank him away. Noel still stood in front of Hope, her attempts gaining no ground. "Hope."

"It's all right, Noel." Hope gave a real smile this time, however small it was. "I want you to do this."

Noel closed his eyes and nodded, finally letting Dahlia lead him away, but still throwing Hope apologetic glances. She mouthed her thanks to Hope before they turned a corner and disappeared, leaving Hope alone.

He glanced around, shifting his shoulders as he felt unseen, and possibly phantom, eyes on him.

_Am I ever really alone when I have a stalker? _

Hope shivered again, only in part from the cold that hit him as he opened the doors and frosty, wet rain hit his skin. While he walked away from the doors his hair flattened to his face and droplets snaked their way under his coat and shirt. Teeth chattering, he lifted his hand up to shield his eyes from the downpour, peering ahead for the car.

He narrowed his eyes, the rain acting as a veil and blurring everything in front of him. Hope pushed on, the chill setting in his bones with every step he took. The deluge was cold and merciless, and Hope's hair stuck even closer to his skin, blinding him until he swiped his bangs away. As he came closer and closer to his usual spot, his heart quickened. No black car came into view, not even when he stood next to the small stump that marked his area.

His throat dried and he looked around, waiting to see the flash of black that would alert him to the driver's presence. Despite the blinding cascade of water, he thought he saw someone out of the corner of his eye, and whipped around.

All he saw was rain, the campus, and a few trees.

Breathing hard, Hope turned back and tapped his foot, waiting for the vehicle. Seconds ticked by slowly and he started to bounce his whole body as nerves overtook him. The rain, once a loud thunder in his ears, became a muffled roar in the face of his rising, stomach churning, panic. Five minutes in the cold rain and there was still no car.

Sighing and steadying his breath, Hope reached in his pocket for his phone. He checked both front and back pockets, his coats pockets and his old, now replacement bag. But the blue cell didn't turn up in his hand and another hot, dizzying wave of fear hit him.

"My phone-where's my phone? Where's my phone?" Hope's gaze snapped to the ground and he scanned the concrete, searching for a bright blue blot in a haze of gray. He took a few steps forward and stopped, shuddering and jerking around. A tingle started in his back, criss-crossing the skin and resting its weight at the base of his neck. "Phone. Phone," he muttered, eyes widening when he saw a small, white light flash behind him.

"Wha-" Breathing failed him and he looked around, mind reeling. _Flash? Flash. A camera. Here, now? What-what do I do? I'm by myself. Where the hell is the driver? And no Noel. And she's here taking pictures? Should-should I walk ho-_

_No! No, not that. That's stupid! What if-what if that's what she wants? No, no, I need-need to find a way-_

_The bus! The bus should be running! Across the street, around the corner. _

Hope took a step back, eyes darting around as if to catch another glimpse of the light. Icy droplets filled his mouth as he breathed through it, unable to catch his breath otherwise. The cold made him shiver, adding to the chill already in his body. He begged his heart to stop flip-flopping, the sensation making him light-headed. His hands shook as he took another step, and a splash finally made him turn tail and run down the sidewalk.

Giving the street a quick glance, he ran across the road and skidded to the next sidewalk. The corner was coming up fast, but Hope jumped and sped up at another bit of white at the edge of his vision. Choking, he took the turn too fast and nearly stumbled to the ground.

_The bus! Please, I just need to get to the bus! Please, please-_

Somewhere, he heard a giggle.


End file.
